


darling boy

by blckpnk



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time Together, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Morning After, Older Man/Younger Man, Smut, chief of staff alex, mention of rape, no actual rape happens but mention of it, president george
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 07:30:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13946628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blckpnk/pseuds/blckpnk
Summary: George wakes up in the morning and can't find Alex. Miscommunication ensues.





	darling boy

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC CONTAINS MENTION OF RAPE!!! NO RAPE ACTUALLY OCCURS ITS JUST A MISUNDERSTANDING BUT IT IS MENTIONED! 
> 
> I started writing this at 3 pm. It is currently 2:16 am and I have just finished this. But I really wanted to post this and I also really want to go to bed. So there may be hella mistakes in this and I apologize. 
> 
> (edit: 03.12.18 I went through and fixed the mistakes I could fine, but that doesnt mean it's mistake-free whoops)
> 
> ALSO this is my first work in this fandom (even though ive been lurking around for quite a while), and my first completed work in probably over a year. So this is prob ooc and I'm still a little rusty. But I hope you enjoy! I appreciate constructive criticism

When George woke up, for an absentminded moment he paid no heed to the empty space beside him. The cold sheets provided a very familiar albeit lonely normalcy. He pushed the covers aside, determined to find the closest cup of coffee, and savour it before the hectic day ahead of him began. He reached to slam the off button on his alarm. There was a tie lain across his bedside table. It was definitely not in his mono-toned repertoire. 

 

Then he remembered. 

_Alexander._

—

The day before had been a hell of a day. They’d spent weeks securing votes for the bill moving through congress, and were so sure they had had it. Until they got stabbed in the back by a few junior congressmen. It was safe to say their opponents next election cycle would get a hefty cheque. But out of all the people crowded in the oval to watch the vote, Alex was the most devastated. He had worked with the bill since its infancy and secured over half the votes. He was abnormally quiet as the nays caught up with the yeas. When the gavel hit for the final time he slipped out into the halls of the White House. 

Washington understood, he himself had his fair share of congressional heartbreaks. Surely Hamilton felt as if the weight of the country had fell upon his shoulders. Even though it was most certainly not his fault the vote had fell through, he probably felt like it was. After giving a few encouraging words to the rest of his staff, he slipped out too. Intent on finding his Chief Of Staff. 

Hamilton was in his office, as predicted. Hunched over his laptop typing furiously. He didn’t look up when his office door opened. Flooding the dim room with hall light. 

“Go away Kate. I have a speech to re-write and—“ 

Washington cleared his throat. Hamilton looked up, and flew out of his chair. 

“Sir! I didn’t know—“ Hamilton’s hands flew to his hair, which was falling across his face. He tied it back quickly, as if Washington hadn’t already saw it was down in the first place. 

“It’s quite alright. I came to make sure your alright. I know you worked hard to get this bill to the floor.” George closed the door behind him, and the office fell dark. 

Hamilton flicked on the lamp on his desk, warily eyeing The President, “I should’ve double checked the votes before Congress went in session. I always do that. But i got too caught up in the Carson statement that I didn’t check the time, and then—“ 

“Hamilton. This was not your fault. It was an ambush. They wanted this to hurt, and it did.” 

Alex’s hands spread out over the surface of his desk, sending pens rolling across the wood. He watched them roll, not meeting George’s eye. In a huff, he collapsed into his desk chair. 

“I like I could’ve done better.” 

Washington smiled, “No one could do any better than you, son.” 

Hamilton cracked a meek smile. He peered at The President through a piece of hair that had fallen out of his hastily made bun. Washington knew he had done his job. 

He turned to leave, and as an after thought added, “You should start wearing your hair down more, Alexander.” 

Alex tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as the door closed. 

—

It was getting late, but George was still in his office. He sipped absentmindedly on some whisky, trying to concentrate on the papers spread out all over his desk. Well, truth be told, he had given up on them in favour of mulling over his earlier encounter with Alexander. More specifically, the vision of Alex with his hair down, framing his slender face. Just brushing his shoulders.

It was the first time he had gotten such a look. Never would Alex show up to work with his hair down. When asked about it, he always was adamant about looking ‘professional’. Washington had often fantasized about running his fingers through it. Letting the always high-strung boy relax against him, sighing at the feel of fingers on his scalp. 

It was a dangerous thought. He knew. Even though he and Alex had been dancing around each other for months, he was still unsure how Alex would react. Knowing the President desired him in such a domestic way. 

As if Alex was summoned by his very thoughts. In he came. A stack of manilla folders hugged to his chest with one hand, and a cup of steaming coffee in the other. He pushed the door to the Oval closed with his hip. Unaware at Washington was sitting at his desk. George didn’t let himself be known, content to watch Alex unguarded as long as possible. 

He had tucked the loose strands of hair back into his bun, a shame, really. Alex set his coffee on the table in the middle of the office to peer inside of one of the folders. In turn he loosened his grip on the other ones. The papers scattered across the floor, much in the same fashion the papers on Washington’s desk were. Alex swore, and dropped to his hands and knees. 

Alex did a double take when he caught George in the corner of his eye. He then scrambled to his feet, a pink blush dusting his cheeks. 

“Sir— I’m sorry I didn’t— It’s late and I thought—“ 

George let out an amused huff, “It’s quite alright, Alex.” 

Alex didn’t take a breath as he continued “Shelby wasn’t at her desk so I let myself in. I didn’t think you’d be here— Sir.” 

Washington stared. Alexander looked beautiful framed by papers scattered at his feet. His face pink with bashful surprise. Washington decided if he could get a painter to paint this moment; he would replace every portrait in The White House with it.  
Washington glanced at the clock, it was well past Midnight, “I must ask, what are you doing here so far into the night, Son? I’ve told you often enough that you must put your health before your work, haven’t I?” 

Alex fidgeted with the spare hair-tie around his wrist, “Well… I was proof-reading your speech for the UN summit coming up and I maybe lost track of the time? And now there’s no more busses running, so I’m going to have to sleep in my office.” 

The end of his sentence turned up like a question. George shook his head. 

“After all this time you really need to get a car. Lord knows you can afford it now-a-days. Your not on the campaign trail with me anymore, Hamilton.” 

Alex sighed, “I know, Sir.” 

Alex leaned down again and grabbed some more papers. George watched him for a moment more before getting up to help. His knees snapping as he bent down to grab a bundle of spreadsheets. 

Alex met his eyes, and he realized how close they were. He could see in detail the dark circles that circled Alex’s eyes, the dullness in those usually bright eyes. Alex flicked his eyes to the papers in his own hands, then back to Washington. 

“Why are you here so late, Sir?” It came out as a whisper. 

George was absolutely entranced by the boy in front of him. The way his long lashes fluttered against his cheek with the slow blink that followed his words. The fumble of his tired fingers as he tried to put the paper in its rightful spot. 

“The country never sleeps. Plus, this technically is my house.” Was George’s whispered reply. 

Alex’s mouth curved into a lopsided smile. It was the most endearing thing Washington had ever seen with his own two eyes. George reached for a paper, but instead grabbed hold of Hamilton’s hand as he reached for the same piece. For a split second, Alex started to pull away. But then paused, letting their fingers brush each other in mid air. 

George started to rub slow circles over Alexander’s knuckles. Alex let out a soft gasp, his mouth forming a beautiful ‘o’ shape. The paper he was holding fluttered back to the floor. 

George started to pull away, horrified at himself, “Alex I—“ 

But Alex turned his hand over and caught him before he could extract himself. Then there they were. Holding hands while kneeling on the floor of the Oval Office. Alex’s hands loosened enough that Washington could pull away if he wanted too. But one look at Alexander’s face and he never, ever, wanted to let go. 

Alex’s eyes locked on their hands, bottom lip sucked into his mouth, brow furrowed. Awaiting the moment Washington would pull away. There was a frightened tension emanating from him. It made Washington’s stomach drop. 

He wished not to frighten Alexander, ever. He ever so slowly brought his other hand up to the boy’s face, barely brushing the boy’s soft skin. Alex met his eye once again with a nervous gaze. Washington ghosted his thumb over Alex’s bottom lip, prompting it out of his mouth. George squeezed Alex’s hand, assuring him he wasn’t going to leave. Alex let out a broken breath. 

“Sir—“ 

George cooed, “I know, Alexander. I know.” 

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Hamilton’s. Feeling Alex’s warm breath across his mouth. So close. Alexander’s eyes fluttered closed. George was about to give in and press forward the rest of the way, when his cellphone rang. He groaned. 

Alex pulled back, settling his hands atop his thighs. He looked anywhere but at George, who was still leaning in front of him. 

“I’m sorry Alexander, but you know I have to take this.” 

Alex gave a curt nod, “Of course, Sir.” 

In that moment, George hated being the President. 

He fished his phone out of his back pocket and answered it. It ended up not being anything important. Some teens being rambunctious outside of the gates. He had his back turned to Alex, giving him some semblance of privacy in light of what had happened. He watched through the reflection in the window as he gathered the rest of the papers, not bothering anymore to sort them. His movements were uneasy and rushed. When Alex finished he sat himself on one of the sofas and gripped his coffee mug like a lifeline. 

Washington felt awful. 

He finally got the head of his security detail off the phone. He took a deep breath to settle himself before turning to look at Alexander. 

Before Washington could open his mouth Alexander was rambling. 

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I’m just so tired and I wasn’t thinking and I understand if you want me to hand in my resignation I can have it by—“ 

Washington’s brain short circuited at ‘resign’. So he cut in.

“Alexander, if you were to pass in a resignation letter I would not accept it.” 

“But Sir I—“ 

Washington made his way around his desk to where Alexander was sitting. Trying his hardest to convey a comforting aura. At a closer glance the boy on his couch was a borderline mess. His hands were shaking around his mug. Although he wouldn’t even glance in Washington’s direction, he could see faint tear tracks on his cheeks. George had to cross his arms so he wouldn’t reach down and drag Hamilton into an embrace. 

“Alexander, you are not in the wrong here. This incident was entirely my fault.” 

Alex didn’t answer. He took a long sip of his coffee before a quick glance up at George’s face. 

“It’s my fault because I wanted it.” Alex murmured into his coffee cup. 

George had to strain to hear it, but that sentence made his heart swell. 

“ _Oh Alexander._ ” 

George reached down and removed Hamilton’s mug from his hands. Brushing their hands together more then needed. Then took both of his hands as he lowered himself down to sit beside Alexander, pulling him along to face him. Alex’s eyes were shiny and hopeful. His hands gripped George’s so hard it almost hurt. Washington tugged to get one free and brought it up to brush the back of his hand against Alexander’s cheek. Alex tucked one foot underneath to face The President. 

Washington traced the curve of Alex’s ear, and then cupped Alex’s face. “Alexander… My darling boy. I’ve wanted you for an eternity.” 

Alex gasped, and pushed forward. Pressing their lips together. 

It wasn’t perfect, Alex pushed when George retreated, there was too much teeth and then not enough tongue. But it was everything George had ever hoped for. 

They ended up sprawled out on the sofa. With Alexander pliant and sleepy underneath him, pressing soft kisses on the skin right above George’s collar.

“It’s late, Alex. We should go to bed.” 

Alex whined, and scrunched his face up in child-like distain. George crawled off him regardless, and held out a hand for Alex to grasp. George tried to lead Alex toward the door that lead to his residence, but Alex wouldn’t move. 

“My office is the other way, Sir.” 

George laughed, “Why sleep in your office when I have a perfectly good bed that awaits us, my darling boy?” 

“A good point, sir.” 

“Call me George, Alexander.” 

“Okay, George.” The name felt foreign on Alexander’s tongue. 

George felt a swell of love for the boy as his name fell off of those lips. 

Alex looked unsure, glancing toward the other door. but Washington gave another tug on his arm, and he followed quietly through the corridors. 

 

When they arrived at the presidential suite, they separated ways. Alexander was sent to the bathroom with instructions on where to find the spare toothbrushes. George rummaged through his dresser for sleep pants. Pulling out a pair that were too small for him in the process, and setting them in the bathroom for Alex. 

When Alexander emerged from the bathroom, George nearly dropped dead. His hair, freed from its confines, and hung beautifully around Alexander’s face. Alex swam in the pants. They made Alex look so much younger then he was, which reminded George of the age difference between them. Alex was so _young_ and so _beautiful_. He wanted to protect Alex from the horrors of the world. He was so enraptured by the sight of Alex that he hardly noticed him speaking. 

Alex laughed, “Like what you see?” 

George reached out for Alexander, gesturing for him to come closer. Alex shyly fit himself in George’s arms. One of George’s hands immediately went to comb through Alex’s hair. The other wrapped around the boy’s slim waist, pulling him as close as he could get him. Alex’s hands drifted along Washington’s back, his finger’s drawing patterns in the undershirt he had on. Before ending up on his shoulders. They stood in that embrace for what was only a minute or too but felt like a life time. With Alex’s head tucked into George’s neck they breathed together. 

Alex let out a yawn, and George pushed them apart. 

“Into bed with you. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

Alex nodded sleepily, and slinked over to the bed. George disappeared into the bathroom. Going through the motions of getting ready as quick as he could. He didn’t want to leave Alex for long. 

When he re-emerged. Alex was laying propped up on his elbow, on the side farthest from the bathroom. Watching Washington make his way over with a lazy smile on his face. Scratch the painting from earlier, this is the picture he would replace every portrait in the White House with. Alexander Hamilton in his bed. 

He noticed Alexander’s clothes lain lazily over whatever surface he could find, it was endearing. 

“I didn’t know what side you slept on, so I took this one.” 

_Caring boy_

“I’ll sleep on whatever side you need me too, as long as your sleeping with me.” 

Alex blushed, and took his elbow out from under him. Letting his head sink into the pillows. George snapped out the lights and got into the bed. Alex was much too far away for his liking. All the way across the King-Sized valley. 

“Come here, my darling boy.” 

Alex complied, and shuffled over into Washington’s arms. He situated himself so that he was comfortable, and then gave a simple request. 

“Please kiss me, George.” 

George was more than happy to oblige. He brushed their lips, and then pushed for more. A hand on Alexander’s back pulled them chest to chest. It was slow and sweet, their tiredness evident. Alexander let out mews and sighs between kisses. Washington groaned into his mouth. He knew if they didn’t stop soon, then they wouldn’t. It was late, well past 2:30, last time he had checked. 

“ _Alexander—_ “ he breathed out, “My sweet boy, we must stop, lest we keep going.” 

Alex pressed his mouth to George’s pulse point, “Please— don’t stop.” Then he canted his hip against George’s letting him feel how affected he was. 

George decided in that moment, that he would do anything that Alex ever asked of him. Anything in the world.  
Instead of answering, he took the hand off of Alexander’s back, and slid it around to his navel, dipping his fingers just below the waistband. 

“Okay?” He asked. 

“More than,” Alex replied, taking the hand that had formally been squeezing Washington’s bicep and mirroring George’s actions. 

Washington’s hand slid lower, moving over Alexander. Tenderly feeling out the places that made him wither and gasp in the most beautiful way. Alex was doing the same, first hesitant and then slow and sure. Washington kissed him, they gasped into each others mouth’s, tongues dancing lazily. George could tell Alex was getting close when he whined, pulling back from the kiss to take a deep, gasping, breath. He watched Alex’s face contort in pleasure. He was close too, warmth was pooling in his stomach. Watching Alexander in the throws of pleasure very nearly put him over the edge.

“My beautiful boy, let yourself go for me” 

Alexander choked, and let himself be pulled under the wave of pleasure. His hand stuttered to a pause on Washington, but George hardy noticed. Watching Alexander loose himself was the best pleasure of all. 

When Alex collapsed pliant into the bed, Washington kissed him again and cooed, “My good boy. My beautiful, exquisite, brilliant boy.” 

Alexander sighed, his hand started to slowly move again. It only took a few strokes and Washington was done, after watching Alexander he was at his peak. When he regained enough sense he reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table with his clean hand. He pulled a few out for himself and the handed the box to the boy next to him. But when no hand took the box. He glanced over to see Alex already asleep. George smiled. 

He cleaned himself, and then Alexander. Got out of bed to get to the garbage can, and then situated himself back at Alex’s side. When he got back under the covers Alex settled his head on Washington’s chest. George carded his hand through Alex’s hair, and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing. 

—

_Where is Alexander_? 

The sheets beside him were cold, but Alex’s clothes were still where he’d left them. Washington strained to hear if there was noise coming from the kitchen, but there was nothing to be heard. He got out of bed and was about to head to the main room, when he stopped. A sob from the washroom. 

In an instant he was across the room to the door. He tried the knob, but it was locked. So he gave a gentle knock. 

“Alexander? Are you in there?” 

There was quiet. Then a meek voice.

“Yes, Sir.” 

After hearing his name off of those sweet lips, it felt wrong to have Sir fall from them once more.

“Are you alright?” 

A muffled hiccup came from the other side of the door, “Yes, Sir.” 

George was worried. Had he hurt him? Had he not wanted what they had done? Did he feel he couldn’t say no, for the sake of his job? He felt sick at the very thought of it. The last thing he wanted to do was cause anguish to his boy.

“Alexander, please let me in. Let me talk to you, darling boy.” 

There was another long silence, then shuffling, and a click. 

Washington opened the door. Cautiously stepping into the room. Alexander was sat on the toilet seat, wiping at his eyes. Washington felt nauseated. To think that he caused his Alexander to be in such pain. He had to lean against the door frame, for he didn’t think he would be able to stand on his own. 

“ _Oh, Alexander_ —“ 

Alex glared at him, “I— I don’t need your pity, Sir.” 

He felt his heart break at those words. It shattered into a million pieces. 

“I—I never meant to hurt you, Alexander. It was— _would_ never be my intention, ever—“

“It’s my own damn fault,” Alex’s voice wavered, “I’m a grown ass man.” 

“Oh Alex no—“ Washington’s world was crumbling around him, “You do not get to blame yourself for this. I was the enabler, this falls on my shoulders.” 

Alex brought his knees up to his chest. Fists clutching the extra fabric hanging from his legs so hard his knuckles were white. 

Alex choked on another sob, “I can— I can have my resignation on your desk by noon. It’s already typed.” 

Washington’s heart stopped at the thought that Alex already had a resignation letter. 

“If thats what you want, I understand Alex.” George pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the sting behind his eyes to go away. He didn’t deserve to cry over this; this was a prison of his own making. 

Alex let out a sharp breath, “What I want?” He gave breathy laugh, “This is the last goddamn thing I want! But I always fuck myself over!” 

Washington didn’t know what to say. This is the last thing on earth that he ever wanted to happen. He couldn't imagine how Alexander felt, but it was crushing to see him like this, to know that he was the cause. 

Alex's voice was pitched high with panic, “I can’t fucking think! What the hell am I going to do? Where am I gonna’ go?” 

George bit his lip until he could taste blood; squeezed his hands so tight that his nails dug into his palms. He wasn’t going to be able to live with this. 

“Whatever you want, Alexander. I’ll do it.” 

Alex blinked at him, “Aren’t you angry?” 

George was outraged. Completely and utterly horrified with himself. 

“Yes I’m fucking angry! With myself! How could I do this to you? How could I have let this happen.” 

The colour was all but drained from Alex at this point. His hair was stuck to his face and his eyes were red and raw. But in the back of Washington’s mind he still thought he was beautiful. But then disgust clawed up his throat as an aftertaste. He had to close his eyes and count to ten for fear that he would vomit all over the tile floor.

“Anything… Anything you want, Alexander. Anything you need—“ 

Alex closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the wall. He took shuddering breaths before answering. 

“I want to forget about all this. I want to go back to the way things were.” 

That was not the answer George had been expecting. The answer he had been expecting was something along the lines off ‘I want to call the police’ or ‘I’m holding a meeting with the press corps’. The Alexander he knew would never let injustices, especially as heinous as this, fall through the cracks. This was not the man he knew. 

“Alex— Don’t you want to go to the press? The police?” Alex lifted his head off the wall, “I’ll make it easy for you, I’ll admit to it, plead guilty, whatever— you deserve justice. I can’t knowingly— I can’t just lead the country knowing I did this.” 

“Justice for what? Being a quick fuck?” His voice cracked, “It’s my fault for letting my feelings get in the way of what was supposed to be something simple.” 

The agony that ripped through Washington was unlike anything he has ever felt before. His lungs didn’t take in air, they were on fire. How could he have done this? How could he have ruined such a beautiful mind? Made him hurt so badly that he thought it was of his own doing? Broken a man with such compassion and empathy, and made him feel like his feelings were worthless? 

He could barely talk over the shallow breaths he was taking, desperate to get air to his lungs, “Alexander—“ Another breath, “this isn’t supposed to be _simple_.” 

Alex sighed, and unfolded himself. He stood, shuffled over to the sink, and splashed water on his face, not meeting Washington’s gaze in the mirror. 

“I promise I wont tell anyone about this.” 

“No no no,” Washington sputtered, “You need too Alex. You need some help.” 

“I need help, huh?” 

Alex tried to turn the water off, but his hands shook so hard it took him a few tries to grab ahold of the knob. 

“Alexander— you’re hurt… because of me.” 

“It’ll kill your career,” Alex’s voice cracked, “I don’t want that.” 

Washington was sure that if Alex didn’t say anything, then he would. He couldn’t bare to live in the same building, or even sleep in the same room, that this happened in. 

Alex gripped the edge of the countertop. Washington could see his frame trembling. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, don’t be absurd.” He spat.

George was dumbfounded that Hamilton could think so little of himself. So dumbfounded by the fact that he thought himself hurting wasn’t ‘that big of a deal’. How small did Hamilton feel, when he usually felt like he was larger than life? 

“It is a big deal, Alexander! How can you say that, when you’re clearly in shambles?” 

Alex shrugged, “It’s nothing.” 

Washington raised his voice, without thinking, “Nothing? It’s not nothing when it happens to millions of people around the globe, Alexander!” 

Alex gasped, and met his gaze in the mirror, “What?” 

“Oh god, Alex,” Washington sighed, “I’m so sorry.” 

Alex teared his eyes away again. 

“I—“ Washington clenched his teeth, “I _raped_ you, Alexander. That is not nothing.” 

Just like that, the ‘R word’ was heavy in the air. Alex faltered. He scrambled to turn himself around. With his back against the granite countertop, he let out a single word. 

“Oh—“ 

Washington was dry heaving. The room was spinning. He was going to throw up. He slid down the wall, hands over his face. He couldn’t bare to see Hamilton’s eyes on him. 

“You thought—“ Hamilton started, but then his body wracked with sobs once again. He tried to speak once or twice over the hiccups, but he choked on his words. 

“I’m so sorry Alexander.” 

Washington finally let himself go, he choked on air. He wanted to scream his throat raw, rip out his vocal cords. Something— _anything_ that would cause him the physical pain he already felt mentally. 

“No— No! This is all my fault.” Hamilton got out, trying to calm his breathing. 

Washington dry heaved again hearing those words of blame fall from Hamilton’s mouth. 

“I thought—“ Another hiccup, “I thought you wanted—“ 

George peered through his fingers, watching Hamilton pull at his beautiful hair. He whispered a quiet “don't.” 

Alexander took a deep breath, “I thought you wanted a one night stand— I thought…You didn’t?” 

“No!” George took his hands off his face, “God no! I've wanted you forever!” 

Alex gawked at him. Wondering what to say. 

“I— I thought you didn’t have any feelings for me… I thought this was about me loving you.” 

George wiped his face on the inside of his t-shirt, “What?” 

“I thought you were— I thought you just wanted a fuck and I let my fucking emotions get in the way. I thought you didn’t want me.” 

George sighed. Alex continued. 

“I thought you were pissed because I made things complicated. I thought it was a spur of the moment thing and now you were going to replace me.” 

Hamilton watched as George pushed himself up off of the floor. 

“You—I— oh my god…” Hamilton could hardly breath, “You didn’t rape me George.” 

George couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Hamilton broke down again, he weeped. Washington couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing, what was happening. 

“Alexander, you can’t be sure in the state your in—“ 

“George, you didn’t— Jesus fucking christ— you didn’t fucking rape me.” 

Washington took a tentative step towards the boy, not wanting to get too close for fear of making things worse. His chest was still tight with worry. His ears were still ringing. 

 

“God, how do I” Alex pulled his hair again, “how do I fuck up so bad.” 

George took another step forward. Desperately wanting to give Alex a hug, wanting to protect him from himself, but not knowing if that would make the matters worse. 

“Alex I… I don’t know what to do.” 

Alex’s eyes are pleading with George to do something. But he doesn’t know what. There’s nothing in his mental repertoire that would help here, he’s flying blind. Alex started mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. Even though his voice is scratched and raw. His eye’s are screwed shut. 

In that moment, Washington knows what to do.

“Alexander…” His voice was soft, song like, “Alexander, my sweet boy please look at me.”

Alex tried to speak but it came out garbled and wet. He opened his eyes. 

Washington does his best to give Alex and encouraging smile. “Alexander, my brilliant, darling boy, I love you.” 

Alex clammed up. Held his breath, and for an antagonizing moment, Washington wondered if maybe his prior convictions still rang true. But then Hamilton launched himself away from the counter, and into Washington’s arms. Trembling, wet, and exhausted, but in his arms. 

Hamilton’s mouth was hot on George’s ear when he whispered, “I love you too. Oh my god I love you too George.” 

In the moment’s after, they were content just to hold each other. When both their breaths evened out, and they were no longer wet with tears. George helped Hamilton to the bed, his trembling legs could barely hold him.

**Author's Note:**

> soooo what'd ya think?? I appreciate constructive critisism! 
> 
> Did you find the end part confusing? It made sense to me but idk how well it faires with others. If none of it makes sense please tell me I would like to know lmao. 
> 
> If ya want to talk Hamilton with me (or really anything) hmu on twitter @blackpnkk or on tumblr @sidsstudies


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